


Come With Me

by eIiza



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 05:56:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8611462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eIiza/pseuds/eIiza
Summary: Angelica goes on a trip, leaving Eliza alone in the apartment. She struggles with this solitude.Aaron comes by to discuss their school project, but instead finds Eliza ... not handling anything well.





	

**Author's Note:**

> summaries are hard; its one of those "i feel like shit so lets dump all of that on this character"  
> contains description of panic attack like event (not just mention)  
> ((this is very similar to the other e/burr i wrote, except hopefully ive improved in my writing since then? apologies))  
> enjoy

The monotonic ticking of a forgotten wrist watch marks the passage of nothing. Does time continue on in the absence of life, Eliza thinks to herself. There is nothing here, no one here.

The weight of her blanket presses the cold sweat against her chest, her feet frozen and huddled together to share what body heat they can produce. Her pulse quivers anxiously in an attempt to salvage what remains. A biting draft wanders lazily through her room. Perhaps she left a window open somewhere. She doesn't care. Curling up tighter against herself, Eliza closes her eyes against the morning light and drifts off to the ticking of the watch.

 

Tick. Tick. Tick, clatter, "Fuck," a distant voice hisses. 

Then silence, save the watch.

Eliza stirs slowly, unable to comprehend where the noise came from. Angelica is in London. Her apartment is empty. She draws the blanket around her tighter and settles for sleeping through the rest of the day. It's probably a neighbour. She can't bring herself to care. Existing is enough of a chore already. She drifts back to sleep.

Cutting through the silence, the hum of the dishwasher roars to life from the kitchen. Eliza's eyes shoot open frantically.

What the fuck? There shouldn't be anyone here. Heart racing, she slides out of bed in a t-shirt and flannel pj pants and pads gently to her closed bedroom door, stopping to listen. The dishwasher hums on, unaware of the potential danger, and she can't hear anything else above her pounding heart. Eliza turns the doorknob slowly and silently inches the door open. Her breath escapes her, fleeing in fear, and she's unable to reign it in. Down the hall, she can see straight to the apartment door, a bit of the kitchen on the left, and a bit of the living room on the right. Nothing is out of place. She wills her heart to slow down, worried it may give her away. Head spinning with adrenaline, Eliza pads further down the hall and spies the back of someone's head sitting against her couch. Her heart skips a beat. She backtracks out of sight.

Panic surges forward and her heartbeat pounds in her ears, drowning out all thoughts on what to do next. She struggles to breathe. Who is that? Why are they here, how did they get in, what do I do, do I say something, do I call someone? Before Eliza can decide, her intruder appears at the end of the hallway and jolts.

"Fuck!" Aaron exhales at the unexpected sight of her.

Eliza jumps and freezes. A breath catches in her throat. The panic she'd barely been holding back bubbles out uncontrollably now that the danger has passed. She slumps against the wall and slides to the floor, head against her knees. A deep breath in but there's not enough air. A deep breath out but her lung are already filling again and there's no time to figure out the next breath because it's happening all too quickly and before she knows it, control of everything escapes her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tries to remember how to think, how to stay upright, how to breathe, but they slip away, intangible concepts.

Distantly she hears her name. A question is asked and she nods arbitrarily. A gingerly placed hand on her back rubs slow circles. A soothing murmur coaxes her brain into slowing down.

The world is spinning but the hand on her back is steady. She focuses on that, letting it ground her, slowing her breath to match the rhythm.

"Just like that," the murmur reaches her. "Just keep breathing, Eliza."

Eliza. That's her name. She takes her first real deep breath and lets it out in shudders. Bringing her hands to her eyes, she discovers tears.

"You're doing good, Eliza."

Eliza. She leans into the arm on her back and finds herself against his chest, head on his shoulder, his hand still steadily pacing out her breathing. She opens her eyes.

"Aaron?" she lets out a shaky whisper.

Aaron lets out a breath he must have been holding in. "Yes, I'm here." A pause. Eliza nods. "I'm sorry," he adds on.

Another deep breath brings in clearer thought. They're on the floor in her hallway and he's kneeling beside her. Aaron Burr. They share some mutual friends and a class project together. They're on a first name basis but surely not close enough to warrant any of what's happened so far. She allows herself his comfort anyway. It's been over a week since she's seen another person. Releasing the tension in her shoulders, she breathes in the scent of him. It's neutral, pleasant, calming. His hand is warm against her back, and she wonders, if they stay like this long enough, would his warmth reach her core? She quickly banishes the thought.

One more deep breath and she manages, "What are you doing here?"

He lets out a quick nervous laugh. "I came to discuss our project."

Another deep breath and she's confident she can support her own weight. Slowly, she removes herself from him and stands, one hand against the wall. He follows her up, hands ready to support her if she needs while maintaining the distance she created. The chill of the apartment strikes her back in the absence of his touch. "So you broke into my apartment?"

"Ah...well, yes. I can explain."

 

Settled on the couch with tea and an explanation later, Eliza learns that her older sister was the one behind it all. Angelica is on a London trip with her girlfriend, Theodosia, who also happens to be Aaron's close friend. Aaron expressed concern about his project partner to Theo, as said partner had been missing from school for over a week. Naturally, Theo passed this on to Angelica, and Angie, discovering she was unable to get ahold of Eliza, let Aaron know where the spare key was and asked him to check up on her. Eliza, finally turning her phone back on after days, confirms Aaron's story with about fifty missed calls and several texts from her sister.

"There's no protocol for situations like this," Aaron continues from his end of the couch. "After consideration I thought I might try to find you, in case something did happen. But initially, I called out your name and there was no answer, so either you were out or asleep. I decided to wait."

Eliza takes a sip of her tea and looks up at him from her end of the couch. "So you did my dishes?"

He looks down at his mug. "I've been where you are now," he says carefully. It's an assumption, a leap in the dark.

"I see," she says softly, and hides behind another sip. He assumed correctly.

"It's not easy to deal with alone," he ventures, another calculated risk. "I found assistance with chores helpful, among other things."

"Thank you," she replies, letting her tone go cold. Other than Angelica, no one knows about her mental health. Angie's always been the one to look after her when things got bad, and for the first time, Angie's not here. Eliza let the dishes and trash pile up in the kitchen, and laundry hasn't been done in ages. The first day she skipped school, there was nothing clean to wear out. The obvious solution was to not go out and it's been nothing but downhill from there. She doesn't remember the last time she ate a proper meal. Now, an unexpected visitor is slipping past her carefully constructed mask. She doesn't want anyone to find out, especially after keeping it hidden for so long, and yet, under the instruction of her sister, here sits Aaron Burr.

In her low, she thought she could slip away quietly without notice. With Angie gone, no one would miss her. She failed to consider her project with Aaron, thinking she would just tell everyone she was sick if they asked. She realizes now they haven't been able to ask with her phone off (Angie wasn't the only one who tried and failed to reach her). How long has it been since she took its battery out? She can't remember.

But there's no going back so Eliza tries to think of how to salvage the situation. She could just kick Aaron out, but that would leave loose ends. He'd still know, and her sister may send more people upon failure of the first.

He cuts off her thought process, "Do you want something to eat?"

She does, but with him? She considers this. Food that she doesn't have to work for, and a story she can send back to Angie to placate her sister's worry. She looks up at Aaron again, and his expression is gentle, not worried, not pitying. She could handle a meal with him. 

"I would like that, thank you." As an afterthought she adds on quietly, "Though there's nothing to eat here."

"I'll buy you lunch," he offers.

"I don't want to go outside," she counters a bit too quickly. She lacks clean clothes, and she can't remember the last time she showered.

"I'll bring something back here, then," he replies smoothly.

The idea of him leaving, of being alone again, brings on a new wave of panic. The world tilts and her throat catches, keeping her from expressing that she's not ready to be alone, however briefly. His presence brought about a tentative peace inside her. In her solitude, she let herself go, lost in spiralling self-deprecating thoughts and escaping that in sleep. Aaron's presence provides something external to connect to and she's scared of what might happen if that connection breaks. It must have shown on her face because he replies for her, "You don't want me to leave?"

She nods.

"Come with me then, just to buy it. We'll come straight back here."

Hiding behind her now empty mug, she replies in a small voice, "None of my clothes are clean. At all."

He looks around, as if some forgotten stash of clean clothes would reveal itself to him in the living room, then looks down at himself. "You can wear my sweater, put it over the shirt you're wearing. I can help you find pants. We won't go very far."

She takes a breath. That feels more manageable. "Okay."

She starts toward her bedroom and as he gets up to follow, she reconsiders. Her room is a mess and probably smells, not to mention the piles of dirty laundry and trash she's failed to take out. It's not something she's ready to share. "Actually, wait here. I can do it."

He looks at her, perhaps silently assessing her ability to follow through. He decides, "Alright," and sits back down.

She retreats to her room. Taking a moment to lay back down on her bed, the safe bubble she's been hiding in this past week, she lets her mind empty out. The temptation of staying here, abandoning Aaron to wait until he tires, creeps in. She could do it, wouldn't feel bad doing it. There's safety in sinking down, drowning in darkness. In her bed, in the dark, nothing matters. He came to help but she doesn't owe him cooperation. It'd be easier on the both of them if he left, left her to the safety of the dark pit she's dug for herself.

She takes a deep breath. The ticking of her watch drones on in the silence. 

Is that what she wants? Every little action takes a monumental amount of energy. She's done this before, wallowed in nothingness until her sister drags her back with firm but caring hands. But she always ends up back here, reduced to apathy and self hate. There's no point in wasting time climbing out when this is always the result. What makes this time different?

Someone knocks at her bedroom door. "Are you alright?" Aaron asks, voice muffled.

Had she been laying there long enough to cause him worry? She gets off her bed and fishes out jeans off the floor. "Yes, I'm almost ready."

She sniffs them, hoping they're not too gross. These jeans were deemed dirty when she spilled tea on them a couple days ago. Compared to her other options, tea stained jeans are practically fresh out of the dryer.

She opens the door to find Aaron just outside in a t-shirt, his hoodie off and folded in his hands. His face is calm, expression neutral, not judging, not patronizing. He hands his hoodie to her silently.

Pulling it on, his scent washes over her, soft, warm. Sleeves reaching down to her knuckles, she pulls the hood on, feeling strange, light, unreal.

“Shall we, then?” he asks.

She nods.

Shoes on, front door open, Aaron goes to step outside but is stopped as Eliza grabs at his sleeve. It’s been over a week and small and unclean, the outside world fresh and dauntingly huge. He turns back to look at her, eyebrows raised but not questioning, and smiles reassuringly. She doesn’t want to leave just yet, to operate like there’s nothing wrong for other people when she’s hollow inside, but there’s something about him that makes this feel safe. People will see her, try to talk to her, but he’ll be there, solid, understanding. With his other hand he gently takes hers off his sleeve and links their fingers together. Hand in hand, she steps outside with him.


End file.
